Frauds
by Pari Passu
Summary: Is Scorpius better at being a Slytherin than Rose is at being a Gryffindor? Naturally, there is a wager. It's a bit of light romance and humor, hopefully to be wrapped up in a minimal number of chapters.
1. Chapter 01

Title: Frauds

Rating: T (for safety)

Universal Disclaimer: I own nothing of note, especially nothing to do with HP or J.K. Rowling.

Author's Note: My first Harry Potter fic. Ever. But Rose and Scorpius beckoned. It's a chance to write Draco and Hermione without all the fuss of messing with canon…which is not outside the realm of possibility, but this seemed like an easier place to start. I confess that I'm just now starting to read the HP fic, so excuse me if someone's fleshed out this particular plot before me. I am a lover of simple plots, though, so it's likely. Regardless, enjoy. Ah, and the bits in italics are flashbacks. I'm playing around with jumping around on a timeline. Hope it's not too confusing.

* * *

Chapter 01.

On most days, Scorpius Malfoy lied so well that even he believed everything that spewed from his mouth. He was his father's child, his grandfather's obedient boy, a product of generations of breeding and ideological browbeating. He sneered with impeccable timing with just the right amount of hauteur. He smirked in the distinct Malfoy-esque manner that plainly said that he was a self-involved twat and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Even his carriage had been perfected to express his wealth and social power.

Yes, he was a Malfoy's Malfoy, and he was so good at it that everyone else believed it too. It was enough to make the boy think he might pursue a career in the West End theatres. But what was he thinking? Malfoys weren't even meant to be cognizant of Muggle arts.

Scorpius learned early on that it was easier to make his family believe that he toed the line rather than try to argue with his Grandfather Lucius about how arcane his beliefs were. The old man was half-demented, and would sooner strike Scorpius down with his ubiquitous serpent-head cane than listen to a wet behind the ears whelp talk back to him, even if he was his only grandson. Only an idiot would court physical abuse and argue with a belligerent old man, and everyone knew that Scorpius was too clever by half.

* * *

"_What's the tally this week, then?" she asked him, quill poised to parchment. _

_Scorpius cast his eyes to the ceiling, slowly recounting his transgressions. "Charmed the sticky pudding to explode in Callum McLaggen's face when the ponce stuck his spoon in the dish."_

_She snorted. "That didn't just explode in Callum's face; it hit everyone within a meter."_

"_Collateral damage. It was only meant to get him. I'll have to work on adjusting it."_

"_Only meant to get him? Tut, tut. That kind of admissions means that you only earn half a point. A true Slytherin would celebrate the magnitude of the damage. They would consider it a bonus," she frowned. "You're slipping."_

"_Sorry. Didn't mean to seem compassionate. I'll be sure to censor myself," he smirked, then sighed before continuing. "Threw a quaffle at Poletey's head when Flint's bludger missed. Attacked Eugenia Smythe's head with an _avis_…"_

"_No points. You did us all a favor because she was in the infirmary instead of Potions," she chortled, even as her quill scratched energetically._

"_Rubbish. Slytherins often act in their self-interests. It is not my fault that my interests happened to align with everyone else on this particular occasion." He observed her over the tops of his champagne-polished shoes. Scorpius could fairly see the argument she was having with herself._

_Rose Weasley rolled her eyes. "Fine, but just this once. Maybe I'm the one slipping if I'm letting you get away with such a flimsy argument."_

_He wanted to crow in triumph, but he was too busy noticing how her nose wrinkled when she was frustrated…but not too busy to drawl, "Yes, it's positively Hufflepuffian of you."_

_She did not need to look up to throw a threat at his head. "Bold words from someone who was near tears when I hit him with a _furnunculus_ fourth year. Fancy walking bow-legged for another week?"_

_Scorpius barely restrained his hand from running over his much-abused privates at the memory. Rose was a dab hand at hexes, but he also had a solid shield charm. "Funny, I was just about to make you the same offer…but for much more pleasurable reasons."_

"_You're disgusting," she hissed, but the color that flooded her cheeks told another story. _

_

* * *

  
_

He hadn't expected to find another con artist in Hogwarts. It was a lucky coincidence, really. As a Slytherin, he often gave Gryffindors a wide berth. Some of his housemates subscribed to the theory that Gryffindors were the best targets for taunts, pranks and hexes, but Scorpius and his cronies preferred to relegate them to the category of 'Decidedly Unworthy of Notice.' Really, what was more insulting than indifference?

Subsequently, up until that fine winter day, he had never exchanged more than a dozen words with Rose Weasley. Sure, he knew who she was and what she was about. She was in his year and seemed to be hell-bent on competing with him, so he was more than adequately familiar with her smug expressions (and annoyed noises when he managed to best her.) And of course she was a Gryffindor through and through, which only served to reinforce his distaste for any association with the girl.

Until Wesley Goyle pinched a scroll from Rose's satchel, thinking it was the Gryffindor Quidditch playbook, and handed it to him with puppy-like excitement. Scorpius had taken one look at the elementary Quidditch plan before balefully telling Goyle that it wasn't a playbook and sending him to try again.

Scorpius had almost tossed the silly scroll, but thought better of it when he considered the owner of said scroll. This was Rose Weasley – she wasn't the brains of the team, no, that was her cousin James. Nothing from their previous espionage missions indicated that she even cared overly much for the game, playing more out of familial duty than actual enjoyment. So why…?

"_Ostendio_," he'd murmured, tapping his birchwood wand against the parchment. The lines slithered sinuously across the sheaf, slowly revealing what the author had actually put to ink and paper. Scorpius scanned the writing and let out a surprised bark of laughter. There was indeed a plan laid out, but it was a plan to steal a boy.

* * *

"_Give it! That's theft, you tosser!" she shrieked, almost elbowing him in the eye as she reached for the scroll that was held far above her head._

_Scorpius only took a moment to think how odd it was that she had resorted to childish tactics rather than wield her wand against him. It was vastly more productive to be amused by their height discrepancy, or better yet, enjoy the way her soft bosom brushed against his chest as she jumped. It was a shame that it took him five years to notice her._

"_Did you see me steal it, Weasley?" he asked slowly. "No, of course you didn't."_

_Rose thwacked his arm repeatedly. "It was in my possession in the library, and now it's in yours. You don't need Advanced Arithmancy to see how this adds up. Besides which, moron, it's mine! Now give it or I'll tell!"_

"_Are you going to run to McGonagall, then? And tell her what? 'Headmistress, help! Malfoy took my plan to sabotage Viola Cheswick! However am I going to go about bamboozling Rafe Thomas now?'" he mocked, not even taking the time to affect a girlish tone. "Or better yet, your Head of House. Isn't Professor Longbottom friends with your parents? Won't he be proud to hear that little Rose Weasley has sorted out how to make a modified Amortentia that doesn't even leave traces of the potion?"_

_He watched the color leech from her cheeks as her hand paused in mid-air. Had she really believed that he wouldn't have figured out the list of ingredients, or for that matter, how to read her fascinating scroll?_

"_What's it going to take to shut you up?" she asked, taking a step backwards._

"_You think I want a bribe? I'm a Malfoy, you silly girl. What could you possibly have that I'd want?"_

_A scowl settled across her lips. "If you don't want a bribe, then why are you torturing me?"_

"_Because, dear Weasley, you have succeeded in intriguing me."_

"_What?"_

_Scorpius tucked the scroll behind his back then took a step closer to his quarry. Her eyes screamed the desire to mimic his movement in the opposite direction, but she held her ground. "What is a Weasley, especially this particular Weasley, doing trying to break up a perfectly sickeningly happy couple by some of the most creative of foul means possible? If I didn't know better, I'd say it was the plot of a Slytherin, not of a Gryffindor whose raison d'être is to be foolishly honest and good? Tell me, Rose Weasley, and the scroll is yours."_

_He watched the internal battle play across her features. Was her face always so naked? How did she hide her emotions? One thing was for certain: honesty was not part of her strategy. He was almost certain that she was going to try to bribe him yet again when her face did something extraordinary…it seemed to figuratively skid to a halt. Had Rose Weasley tripped over some sort of epiphany? _

_Her eyes brightened. _

_Her smile turned sly. _

_His left eye twitched. Had his mother told him that it was a good omen or ill?_

"_I have a better deal for you, Malfoy. Give me back my nefarious plot, and I won't tell people you like to free house elves in your spare time."_

_Scorpius sighed. Decidedly ill._

_

* * *

  
_

Whenever he thought back to that moment, Scorpius never failed to puzzle over his miscalculation. How had he lost control so quickly? What happened to the master plan? He was just meant to tease her a bit, force her to admit that she was The Decidedly Evil Weasley. It was a spot of fun, or something like it. But that was the trouble with convincing the Sorting Hat to put you in Slytherin (familial expectations and all that rot) instead of Ravenclaw where you belonged. Instead of overanalyzing and looking at a plan from every which angle, he was plotting for the sake of plotting, acting like a prat just to keep up appearances. It was exhausting, and probably the cause of his slip-up.

There had been no use in lying to her. All right, initially he'd tried. Scorpius hedged some excuse about throwing out old socks and using the scarves as blankets to smother the old creatures, but then she trumped him with a memory of the time he put a wooly beanie on Bitsy's head. That had been the nail in the coffin. His own careless kindness was his undoing.

They were both frauds, and they both knew it.

It should have turned awkward. It had turned awkward. So he handed her the damning parchment and walked away, chalking this idea in the Abject Failure column. It was a waste of a perfectly good piece of blackmail. He had bungled it, and now he had reason to think about Rose Weasley where once he had none.

He would be fine. He would recover, he thought.

But then a week later she cornered after Defense Against the Dark Arts. Apparently, something about their (in)fortuitous coincidental event must have made Rose Weasley brave – made her tap into the wee bit of true Gryffindor in her devious little heart. She tempted him with a challenge.

* * *

"_What are you going on about, Weasley?"_

_Rose rolled her eyes. "Look, it's simple really. I propose we take our long-standing – if unacknowledged – rivalry to another playing field. It's rather boring to just compete academically, don't you think?"_

"_Not at all. I rather enjoy your ineptitude at Charms and Arithmancy."_

_She leveled a glare at him that would make a lesser boy curl into him and shrivel on the spot. "Charming, Malfoy. Is that how you get the slags to bend over for you?"_

_He felt an unusual desire to chortle, but quelled it. Malfoys did not chortle. They cackled, they scoffed, they guffawed, but they did not chortle…not like the girl in front of him. "Why? Feeling the sudden urge to join the queue?"_

"_Stop. You're making me blush," she deadpanned. "Honestly, Malfoy, pay attention for a second."_

"_Why even suggest something like this?"_

"_Because it would be brilliant fun, don't you think?"_

_He furrowed his brow in a way that many told him was intimidating. "It's mad is what it is."_

"_What? Afraid that you can't beat me?"_

_Scorpius saw the challenge that sparkled in Rose Weasley's eyes. This wasn't just taunting to get his back up; she was genuinely interested in her idea. If he was completely honest with himself, the prospect amused him. And maybe, for once, he wouldn't be so damn bored all the time._

"_Okay. Fine. What's the forfeit?"_

"_Forfeit? What do you mean?"_

"_Weasley, you're betting me that you're better at faking at being a Gryffindor than I am at being a Slytherin. This is a competition. As such, there is generally a wager or a forfeit," he explained slowly, as if to an infant. "Or did you think we were doing this for the sheer pleasure of it?"_

_For the first time since she brought up this idea, her confidence wavered. "Of course not," she scowled. "What are you suggesting?"_

_Scorpius took a moment to think. The answer was simple, really. "Every week we meet to compare notes. Only actions of note, with witnesses outside of our own houses, will count. The winner is allowed to ask one wish of the loser, and before you get your knickers in a twist, it can't be anything – be still my Slytherin heart – immoral or dangerous. It's just meant to be fun."_

_Her brow lifted in a manner that even his father might approve of. "Now what's the fun in putting parameters on the forfeit?"_

_Scorpius grinned. "So speaketh the true Slytherin in you. Fine. Whatever the lady wishes. No rules."_

"_Then we have a deal," she said, sticking her hand out. _

_It was a Muggle gesture, and for a second she faltered, thought he wouldn't know how to respond. Scorpius reached out and grabbed her hand in his before he could change his mind. Her palm was dry and warm, her pulse even. _

"_We have a deal."_

_

* * *

_

_TBC  
_


	2. Chapter 02

Title: Frauds

Rating: T (for language)

Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to get this up. If it's any consolation, I _just_ finished it minutes ago. Translation: you're likely to find mistakes, but I'm okay with that. Thank you all for reading it – your reviews are super nice and make me giddy. I'm easily pleased. It cannot be helped. Meanwhile, I think Rose ran away from me. I didn't plan for her to be a Person That Thinks in First Caps…And I'll add points of clarification at the end of the chapter. I've been told I throw in references that need explaining some times, so the exposition is meant for those unfamiliar with some of the bits in the writing. Anyhow, onward!

* * *

Chapter 02.

On most days, Rose Weasley lied so well that she even she believed that she was simply another Weasley popped out of the same mould as the rest. She was her father's darling girl, her grandmother's wee spitfire, a product of generations of irrepressible do-gooders with the biological imperative to find other do-gooders and do-good together. She barreled into situations with little forethought, jumped to the defense of the weak and defenseless, and dared anyone to stand in the way of her righteous path. Her eyes burned with earnestness, her mouth permanently set in a mutinous line that proclaimed her determination.

Yes, she was a Weasley's Weasley, or better yet, a Weasley improved by the genes of Hermione Granger. The blood of two infamous Gryffindors coursed through her veins – no one questioned her place in Godric Gryffindor's revered house. No one suspected how hard to was to be so damn noble, so bloody courageous and so blindly a martyr. It defied explanation and reason, and Rose really hadn't the time to sort it all out. She also had her mother's legacy to live up to, for that matter.

Rose learned early on that it was easier to be a typical member of the Weasley brood than not to be, particularly because she was her father's little girl. Although she gravitated intellectually to her mother, Rose knew her father doted on her, and she was never one to pass up freely given attention or a good thing. That might have been her first sign that she was meant to be a Slytherin. But the joke was on her: she wanted so much to please her father that she could never be anything but a ridiculous Gryffindor.

* * *

"_You seem awfully smug this week. Think you have me beat, do you?" he asked, taking the parchment from her fingers. _

_Scorpius drew out his Meisterstück, and touched the nib to his tongue (unnecessarily). It was a move calculated to catch her attention, and it did, but not for the reason that he always assumed. Yes, his lips, his mouth, even his ruddy pale pink tongue were all perfect – but she was more interested in the fact that he used a Muggle fountain pen instead of a quill like the rest of them. When she asked – and she was fairly certain that she was the only one that dared ask – he'd told her that it was just a Curious Object he'd found in his father's junk drawer. Of course, as he bloody well knew, this sent her on a path straight to the Interweb (thank goodness for Muggleborn mothers!) and to a website that told her just how much that junky Curious Object cost. It was enough for her to consider again what her parents had told her about the Malfoys and their excesses. Honestly, it was downright disgusting, and not worth contemplating. But what was worth contemplating was Scorpius Malfoy's tongue. _

_Rose cleared her throat, and her head. "I couldn't allow you to win two weeks in a row, now could I?"_

_He sighed as he observed his manicured fingernails. Rose wondered if having the grooming habits of a girl was a Slytherin trait or a Malfoy trait. "It will be three weeks in a row, not two."_

_She opened her mouth to argue, but closed it with a frown. Yes, she supposed it has been two winning weeks for him already. _

"_Are you so used to losing that you've lost count?" he asked with a quirked brow._

"_Shut it, you."_

"_Clever, Rose," he murmured, but he had his pen poised nonetheless._

_She cleared her throat. "I combed Mrs. Norris on Wednesday."_

"_Was it for detention?"_

"_No. I did it because it was _nice_," she smirked._

_Scorpius nodded. "Disgusting, but acceptable."_

"_I didn't think before I called Professor Brown a prejudiced bully when she made Margot Winkletimms cry in Divination."_

_His pen lifted from the parchment. "_How_ is that a Gryffindor trait deserving of a point?"_

"_Two points. First, I didn't employ any forethought in my actions. They were reckless and foolhardy at best. I earned detention, didn't I?"_

_He sniffed. "And the second?"_

"_I defended Margot Winkletimms, in spite of the fact that she truly is a stupid cow who wouldn't know The Grim if it splattered across her face."_

"_You appear to be employing different tactics this week, Rose. This isn't how _you_ go about trying to win," he observed._

_Rose suppressed a grin. "Is it two points or not?"_

_Scorpius inclined his head. "It is."_

_She laughed a laugh that was by no means angelic. "I thought so."_

"_You didn't answer my question."_

"_You didn't ask one. A question, by general definition, involves asking. You stated."_

"_Rose…"_

"_Am I not entitled to changing my strategy when it isn't working?" she asked vaguely._

_He took a moment to think, which was more that enough for him to figure out what she was about. Stupid, stupid boy. He was too smart for his own good. "How many technically Gryffindor acts are you going to have me document, then?"_

_Rose pretend to count on her fingers. There was nothing wrong with a little bit of coyness. "Ten more, thirteen total."_

_That made him frown. It ought to; it was four more than his tally. "Thirteen?"_

"_It's a prime number. I like prime numbers."_

_He put the pen down carefully. If it had been her, she might have hurled it against the old wooden table, but one did not hurl an antique fountain pen. "You must really want this forfeit," he said, annoyance vibrating with each syllable._

"_I do, I really do."_

"_Name it."_

_Inside her head, Rose was doing a jig. On the outside, her composure was as fine as any Perfectly Behaved Young Miss. "You don't have a date to the Vernal Dance, do you?"_

"_Rose Weasley, you aren't suggesting that we go together, are you?"_

"_Don't make me ill. Scorpius, not every girl in school worships at your altar." When he didn't speak, but instead continued smirking, she added, "No, I am not suggesting that."_

"_Fine. No, I don't have a date. In fact, I didn't intend on going at all."_

"_Excellent, then you should have no problem inviting Daisy Longbottom to be your date."_

"_Daisy Longb—she's a third year. I can't go with a third year," he hissed, leaning forward._

_Rose leaned it in equal measure, briefly bumping noses with him. "Sure you can, and you'll be the perfect gentlemen. Surely you can do something so simple, Scorpius."_

_He gritted his teeth and straightened away from her. "You'll pay for this."_

_She feigned a shudder. "How very Slytherin."_

"_Excellent. Then you can put this exchange in next week's tally."_

"_Fine, just remember to put down your date with Daisy as two points in my column. One point for doing a favor for Daisy – she's head over heels for you Malfoy – and one point for annoying a Slytherin."_

* * *

She had always expected to find common ground with a Slytherin, but she had never expected that Slytherin to be a Malfoy, especially That Malfoy, and especially not because they were both frauds. Her father had warned her about Scorpius and his family, had told her to beat him at everything right before she got on the Hogwarts Express that first year. So she had always been aware of him, always competed even though they never talked about the whys of it all. But they'd never exchanged more than a handful of words. While it was fine and good to follow her father's directions, she had no real reason to pay the blond boy any more attention than necessary, particularly when she had other things to do, like teach Viola Cheswick a lesson. It had never been about Rafe Thomas, and had always been about teaching that snotty bitch a thing or two about crossing a member of the Weasley family.

Scorpius was wrong, the potion wasn't meant to make Rafe fall in love with her, but with her cousin Lily. Lily didn't even like Rafe, but agitating her cousin was Rose's fringe benefit for this act of familial loyalty. Nonetheless, she was less than pleased to have someone get hold of her plans. And for that someone to be Scorpius Malfoy, her ostensible rival…well, that was disaster on top of singularly rotten luck.

It could have been worse, she reminded herself. That is wasn't a complete disaster was all due in part to her Very Bad Habit for Snooping. It paid to have evil qualities, it really did. She had filed that knowledge about Scorpius and the elves for a rainy day, and truly, it felt like a regular monsoon when she saw him with her scroll. Thank goodness she had the memory of a deviant: she remembered best the factoids that would be excellent for blackmail and personal benefit.

Rose was almost surprised that he relented so easily. Honestly, if Rose told the whole of Hogwarts that Scorpius was the heir to Hermione Granger's futile S.P.E.W. movement, no one would believe her, truth notwithstanding. Her threats, though very real (yes, she would have gotten up on a table and shouted it in the Great Hall without reservation), were laughable. Didn't he know that?

It didn't take her long for her to realize that he did.

_

* * *

_

_She couldn't stop watching him. She hoped that he didn't notice. She hoped that he was concentrating so hard on copying all of her notes from last week's classes that he wouldn't catch her staring._

_Rose took a moment from her musings to be angry again. For him to request her notes as the forfeit, the git would have had to be so confident about his misdeeds that he _knew_ he would win. She hadn't even considered his less than studious behavior in classes. The loathsome rat. The handsome loathsome rat._

_But that was beside the point._

_Yes, he was handsome. But it was more than that. It was the ease with which he carried himself. It was the careless (yet careful) way he looked completely put together and completely disheveled all at once. Her mother had a name for such boys. Public School Boys. Rose had seen her share of them (wasn't her house close to Harrow?), and Scorpius fit the type perfectly. However, that is not why she stared. There were beautiful boys a plenty if she simply wanted something to look at, hell, several of them occupied her family tree. No, it took more than a pretty face to make Rose Weasley pay attention._

"_You realize that we're sitting very much in plain sight, don't you?" she asked, breaking their companionable silence._

"_Mmmhmm," he agreed. His Montblanc did not still, his eyes did not lift._

"_Aren't you concerned that someone will see us together?"_

"_No."_

"_Why not? Slytherins and Gryffindors do not sit together," she reminded him._

"_So we are setting a precedent. The headmistress will rejoice."_

"_Your flippancy is not appreciated," she huffed. "Why can't you just take my notes and copy them in your room or something? Why must we remain by the lake?"_

"_I am not being flip. I rather think that McGonagall would do somersaults if she saw us out here. But this speculation is beside the point."_

"_What is the point?"_

_Scorpius stopped writing and slanted his blue eyes in her direction. "No one questions what I do, or whom I do it with."_

"_Is that why we've been meeting in the Owlery the past month, then?"_

_He breathed in deeply then resumed his task. "I had to be sure."_

"_Be sure?"_

"_When we started, I thought this would be a passing interest to both of us. I didn't think it would keep me amused for this long, but it has," he smiled. "Logically, I know our little game cannot continue indefinitely, but it's equally rational to assume that it will last long enough that sneaking around will become tedious."_

"_Do you really need this much exposition, or do you just like the sound of your own voice, Malfoy?"_

"_I've been told my baritone is quite soothing," he purred (or something like it)._

"_Hmph."_

"_Do you actually want to sneak around? I thought you would appreciate my bravery at taking us public, so to speak."_

_She snorted. "We're not a couple, Malfoy. We're competitors."_

"_Indeed," he concluded, finishing his writing with a flourish. Scorpius handed back her notes and tucked his own copy into his satchel. "Well this has been very productive, don't you think?"_

_He was extending his hand down to help her up, but she was too busy thinking._

"_You're not scared of my threat to blab about the elves, are you?"_

"_Not particularly."_

"_Then why haven't you said anything to Rafe or Viola?" she asked, gazing up at him._

"_Why would I? I can't wait to see you put your plan into action," he said, too pleasantly for her comfort. "Or have you given up on it because you're afraid I'll tattle?"_

_Rose put her hand in his, letting him pull her up with an ease that annoyed her. Regardless, she shook it off and affixed a sly grin on her face. "Do you know how hard it is to brew an Amortentia, let alone an Amortentia with the modifications I have planned? It'll be another fortnight before it's ready."_

"_Ah," he nodded. "I await the show with bated breath."_

* * *

They had started their game in the winter of their fifth year. Two years on, and they were still having weekly meetings to compare notes and trade forfeits. Rose didn't honestly think it would go on this long, but she also wouldn't know what to do if he asked to stop. Meeting him had become such a routine activity that its absence would leave a void. She wasn't convinced that she liked him overmuch, but he was a friend of sorts.

She would like him more if he didn't always prove her wrong.

Scorpius had been right, as per usual. No one questioned him about being seen with her; other students wrote it off as perverse behavior, but not something worth crossing Scorpius over. The case was very different for Rose; she had questions aplenty from her housemates, half of whom were related to her. They were all such nosey bastards. Naturally, she'd told them all to sod off and to mind their own business. She couldn't give the same excuse to her relatives. No, to them she'd rattled off a monologue about inter-house unity laced with such fervor and self-righteousness that even her mother would have been proud.

She really was quite good at being Rose Weasley, Gryffindor Princess (and Insufferable Know-It-All). So it was anyone's guess as to why she didn't beat Scorpius more often. But in the interest of full disclosure (and in no means a way to justify her losses), as time passed, she was less interested in winning, and more interested in solving the mystery of Scorpius. She had to. She just had to. Before it drove her batty.

* * *

_It was a nice night, he said. The clearest night in months, a perfect night to look at the stars. He was headed up to the Astronomy Tower—did she want to join him?_

_Something told her to go – it felt like it originated in her chest – so she went._

_Because it was the week before exams, the tower seemed to be deserted. They were perhaps the only two people in the castle not revising or sleeping. It was nice to be a prefect, but even nicer not to give a toss about punishments._

_For the first fifteen minutes, they sat on the parapet in silence. He was half-reclined, kept aloft by a cushioning spell. She was cross-legged, but otherwise stiff. As though sensing her tenseness, he invited her to lean back and join him. Rose agreed, and as she got comfortable, he started naming the constellations. She listened to him without interruption, lulled by the uncharacteristic gentleness in his voice. Scorpius always sounded polite, but at that moment he spoke in whispers, as though afraid that a raised voice would send the stars scurrying across the sky._

"_Why do you know all this?" she asked, matching his whisper._

"_When your entire family bears names from constellations, you take the hint and pick up a star chart." Rose could _feel_ him smile._

"_You didn't show me where your namesake is," she smiled back. _

"_Scorpius, like my father's namesake Draco, occupies the summer sky," he sighed. "We won't be able to see it until July. So unfortunately, I won't be able to show it to you."_

"_Not necessarily," she said before she knew what she was about._

_He did not respond right away, instead allowing the awkwardness to stretch. Why couldn't he be a simple boy who reacted before he thought? Or maybe this was better. Maybe he was thinking of a way to change the subject. Yes, that was it._

_She heard a brief intake of breath from beside her. "Are you suggesting we see each other during summer holiday?"_

_Bugger. Well. Right. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Is that so unheard of?"_

"_A bit."_

_She sighed. "You're in Wiltshire, not the Outer Hebrides. And are you saying you don't know how to use a floo?"_

"_No, I don't floo. But…perhaps you know how?"_

_Rose couldn't help herself. She turned her head to look at him and saw the mischief clear as day, even in the utter darkness that stargazing demanded. _

"_Me? You want me to go to Malfoy Manor?"_

"_You clearly know where it is."_

"_I know that we have declared détente, but perhaps you forget that we aren't meant to be so friendly in the eyes of our families?"_

"_And with this bit of rationale, you expected me to show up at your father's front door?"_

_She shrugged. "You stand a better chance with my parents than I do with yours."_

_How had the conversation gone down this road? They were speaking as though they were thinking of confessing their relationship to their parents. It was absurd, particularly because they didn't have a relationship that needed explanation. Not really, anyhow._

"_I used to think so too, but my mother is terrific, and my father isn't nearly as terrifying as people think."_

_She swallowed. "And your grandparents?"_

"_Spend their summers in Tuscany."_

_There was that silence again, and this time it was her fault. Was she really considering going over to his house – nay, manor – during summer hols? As though they were regular old friends?_

"_You don't have to spare my feeling. You can say no, Rose."_

_Courage, Rose, courage, she told herself. "I'll visit you if you visit me."_

"_How will you tell your father that you're having a Malfoy over for afternoon tea?"_

_Rose allowed herself to grin. "I reckon I'll find a way. Honestly, he'll probably thank me. That's one more person to choke down my mother's crumpets."_

_

* * *

_

TBC

* * *

End notes:

Montblanc Meisterstück - one of those pens that clearly paints me as a nerd. It's the original Montblanc, the one that made it famous. A gorgeous fountain pen that translates to 'masterpiece'.

Interweb - I call it The Interweb, so Rose does as well, very much facetiously.

Public School Boys - public school in the UK is pretty much the diametric opposite of public schools in the US. They're usually boarding schools, or at the very least, quite private. Think Harrow (like Rose) or Eton.

Draco and Scorpius, the constellations, not the adorable Malfoy men - They do indeed only appear in the summer sky. You know I would have loved to make it work during school, but even I can't make the constellations move around to my heart's desire.

* * *


	3. Chapter 03

Author's Note: Wow, writing this chapter was like pulling teeth for me, and I don't even know why. It took me all morning to finish it...which you needed to know. Thanks for sticking with me, ya'll, and reading this bit of nonsense. :)

* * *

Chapter 03.

Rose Weasley meant something to him. It was an unavoidable truth, a truth that he knew had been building for some time. Thankfully, Scorpius was well-tuned to his emotions (for his gender, or so his mother had always told him), and he hadn't been bludgeoned over the head with his obvious affection for her. He could only imagine how unpleasant it would be to simply realize that one liked Rose Weasley one day.

It had started, predictably, with the initiation of their game, and began to crystallize in his brain as he watched her snigger over Rafe Thomas reciting a sonnet at her cousin Lily. Initially he had been confused because Rose was not the one at the receiving end of the iambic pentameter, but then he sat back and watched in appreciation. It was one thing to concoct a nefarious plot, and entirely another thing to see it to fruition. Scorpius recognized Rose's genius and even surprised her with a thank you Owl for the week's entertainment. It had been a curious feeling, having an inside joke with a person from a different house.

He reckoned that she knew how he felt. It wasn't that he was open with his feelings, in fact he took extra measures to be careful around her, but it would be unwise to take her powers of perception for granted. Rose was a clever girl; even without overt behavior, she had to think that he cared for her, if only a little. Hadn't they visited each other like regularly chums over that summer before their last year at Hogwarts? People who had adversarial relationships (like they were meant to have) did not actively spend time together.

* * *

"_Do you take sugar, Scorpius?" asked Mrs. Weasley._

_He favored her with a tentative smile. It was a smile that he'd practiced before coming over, making sure that it bore no trace of a smirk. "No thank you. I take my tea plain."_

_The older woman smiled back, handing him a double-walled glass tea cup. He brought the cup to his nose and inhaled deeply. It smelled of fresh fields and orchids. "Is this Iron Goddess, ma'am?"_

"_Yes," she smiled again. "I like it over Earl Grey, though we have that too if you prefer."_

_He met Rose's surprised eyes, but then turned to his hostess and shook his head. "No, I prefer oolongs and greens…"_

_Scorpius might have said more, might have gone on to discuss his experience visiting the tea plantations in Hangzhou, but his vocal chords abandoned him as he caught Mr. Weasley's thunderous expression. Instead, he cleared his throat and took a sip of his tea._

_The exchange was not lost on the two Weasley females. "Ron."_

_With the censorious syllable from his wife, Ron Weasley eased his frown into something resembling a slight grimace. "What? You two are acting as though I've hexed the boy."_

"_Don't be silly, Ronald; you promised you wouldn't, and I believe you…"_

_Scorpius almost spit out his tea. She'd had to exact a _promise_?_

"_However, must you look so…hostile? It's not every day Rose has someone round for afternoon tea," Mrs. Weasley hissed, as though she weren't speaking in a stage whisper._

_Rose rolled her eyes._

"_Oh, so first I can't hex him, and now I can't even look at him funny? Unbloodylikely. He's…"_

"_Don't you dare say what I think you're about to say…"_

"…_a boy! He's a boy sniffing around my Rosie!" Mr. Weasley shouted, getting to his feet. At this point, Scorpius was too busy watching how quickly Rose's father's face was changing from white to rhubarb to be scared of the man, or considered the implications of his words._

"_Honestly, Dad, you're jumping to conclusions. Scorpius and I only stopped calling each other by our surnames this year," Rose reasoned. "He's not _really_ A Boy."_

"_I beg your pardon," Scorpius tried to interject._

"_He's not a boy, Rosie? Is that the best that you can come up with? Then what is he?" her father asked._

_Rose shrugged. "He's…we're…"_

"_Friends," Scorpius said._

_Mr. Weasley sat down with a thump. "Friends? How do a Gryffindor and a Slytherin become friends?"_

_Scorpius figured that he would allow Rose to answer the question. After all, she would know best how to handle her own parent. "By a very stupid accident."_

"_Rose…" he began._

_She raised her hand. "A stupid accident, but a good one. And that's why he's over for tea."_

_From the corner of his eye, Scorpius could see Hermione Weasley beaming. "And we're happy to have you, Scorpius. It is truly a testament to how far our society has come since the Second War."_

_Mr. Weasley snorted, but he seemed much less volatile than before. "Yes, we've all changed loads. Next thing you know, Malfoy the Elder will be inviting us over for dinner."_

"_Now that's an idea, Dad. Perhaps I'll ask him about it when I go over next week."_

_If Rose had timed that bit of news to make her father choke on one of her mother's crumpets, it indeed achieved the desire effect. Thank goodness she was on his side._

* * *

After that day, they never really discussed that word again: friends. They'd used it again to explain her presence at Malfoy Manor, but it clearly wasn't something she was comfortable with. It was true that their relationship bore many of the same attributes of friendship, but it wasn't truly one by its strict definition.

He could easily list the ways he could tell she was lying, but he didn't know what her favorite color was. He knew that she skipped into Potions every week with barely contained excitement, but he didn't know if she preferred butter beer to pumpkin juice. He could tell when she was agitated and wanted to be left alone, but he didn't know who comforted her in spite of all her protests.

It was an ambiguous relationship. Both of them would agree to that much. They discussed and chatted about loads of things – lectures, other students, quidditch – but almost never about personal things unless it was accidental. Scorpius wasn't sure who fought the familiarity more, but the fact remained: the resistance was there. She happily invited him over for a visit, but she wasn't comfortable with the desire to see him. Rose didn't _want_ to like him. Interestingly, that was almost certainly _why_ he liked her so well.

* * *

"_Is Windsor actually the midpoint between London and Wiltshire?"_

_Scorpius sliced into his meat. "Not really, but I thought I'd be nice."_

"_Why? Because of my dad? You afraid he'll act on the violence he promised last time if I stray too far from home?" she asked with an amused smile._

"_Only an idiot wouldn't be a little afraid of your father, but that's not why."_

"_Then…"_

_He frowned at her through a mouthful of lamb and garlic mash. "Can you ever eat quietly? I haven't eaten all day woman. Let a guy eat in peace."_

"_I can't help that I'm a chatty eater. Don't act like you didn't know," she sniffed, savagely stabbing at her dauphinoise. _

"_Have you never heard of a rhetorical question? Of course I know, just like I know you like a good soup. Hence, this place," he said, gesturing at their ill-lit surroundings. "Besides, I don't know a good place to eat in Crookham."_

_He watched her face contort into a series of expressions and animations that were oddly endearing. She was definitely having trouble articulating or retorting, he wasn't sure which though._

"_Eat up. It's a clear night, but it won't be clear forever."_

"_So where are we going anyway?"_

"_I didn't tell you? You don't know?"_

"_If I knew, why would I waste time asking?"_

"_Rose Weasley, I'm shocked. You mean to tell me that you agreed to meet me here without asking why? It's positively reckless of you," he teased, finishing up the last of his plate._

"_I think it's less a reflection of my recklessness and more of a reflection of your innocuousness," she shot back, not even bothering to make eye contact._

_He grinned in spite of the sting of the direct hit. "Touché mademoiselle."_

_Rose shrugged. "It's hardly worth praise; you opened yourself up to that one. But seriously, where are we going?"_

"_Why to a field 300 meters from here. I've found it an excellent place to observe the stars."_

_A look of genuine surprise passed over her face. "Stars?"_

_He held up his rucksack. "Yes, stars. Why else would I bring a blanket and hot chocolate?"_

"_Hot chocolate, even in the summer?"_

_Scorpius nodded. "Unconventional, I'll grant you, but it's what my father always brought with us when we went stargazing."_

"_You go stargazing with your father?"_

_Clearly Rose was finding the Draco Malfoy of Scorpius' memories very different from the stories she'd always been told, even after having met the man not three weeks prior. Scorpius did not speak often of his father, but it was less out of shame and more out of habit. One did not reveal personal anecdotes to just anyone._

"_Not often, but I was quite interested as a child and he was indulgent," Scorpius explained. "But it doesn't really signify. You don't have to drink the chocolate if you don't like it."_

"_Of course I like chocolate," she said quickly._

_Scorpius bit back a smile. "Perhaps I'll cast a cooling spell around the field so you'll better feel the need for a warm beverage?"_

"_Har har," she snorted. _

_They lapsed into silence as he paid for their meal – Rose narrowed her eyes at him, but wisely said nothing – and she continued to pick at her potatoes. He almost felt grateful for the silence, because he knew it was something that was earned. Rose, like many people, often felt the desire to fill all the empty spaces with chatter when she was uncomfortable. Did she know her silence spoke volumes about their relationship?_

"_So why the sudden desire to observe the night sky?" she asked._

"_Wasn't that the pretense of our visits during the holiday? Or have you forgotten the night up at the Astronomy Tower? Did you think I had another reason for asking you out?"_

"_Er, no, of course not," she stammered. He had the pleasure of watching her cheeks and then her ears go red. _

"_Perhaps we should be on our way?" he asked._

_She sighed. "That is an excellent idea."_

_Her discomfit caused Rose to ramble the entire walk to the field. Scorpius let her continue to talk alone, not helping her in the least; it was much more fun guessing how long it would take her to tire. Incidentally, she didn't stop talking until he'd spread the blanket out and invited her to lie down beside him. She did so, but managed it with so much tension that even he felt awkward._

"_Stop," he drawled._

"_Stop what?"_

"_Acting funny. I didn't mean anything by it," he told her, wanting to say anything – do anything – to put her at ease._

"_Didn't mean what by…?"_

"_Please, Rose, you're above petty evasion," he said. "Or at the very least, you should know better than to use it on me."_

_Rose nodded in the dark. "I should, shouldn't I?"_

"_Yes."_

"_How did we get here, Scorpius?"_

"_Er, well, I took the floo to the Central Rail and…"_

"_Really? And you're accusing me of being dodgy?"_

_He chuckled softly. "Isn't it telling that we're both dancing around the issue?"_

"_Right. Directness has never been our thing, has it? Unless it's about what we dislike about each other. We're very good about that."_

"_We are."_

_Rose seemed to consider her next words. "Honestly, if I were to really think about it, this entire summer has been kind of wonky. I never expected to be here."_

"_Neither did I."_

"_That's just the thing, isn't it? It's not…we're not natural, you and I. The whole thing is incomprehensible. The fact that I'm even considering you…"_

…a friend_, he thought. Yes, there was that taboo word again._

"_It's probably best that we not talk about it, because honestly, I'll just pick a fight."_

"_Pick a fight?"_

"_Yes, pick a fight. So then you'll finally be ruffled for a change, instead of inhumanly calm all the time, and I can finally write you off as Just Like Everyone Else, and stop being so bloody intrigued by you even though I ought not to be because you're bloody Scorpius Malfoy, and the world can stop spinning off its axis because somehow we found common ground and can spend time together without committing murder or at the very least grave injury, and everything will be put to rights."_

_Most of what she said made sense, but he was certain that it would have made more sense had she spoken with pauses and inflections. However, the fact still remained: she'd divulged too much and would probably plant him a facer if he teased her about it. _

_Rose had effectively painted him into a corner. Pursue the topic and risk her storming off in a completely irrational (and completely feminine) rage. Or drop the topic and let the questions fester in his brain and eventually drive himself mad. Pure evil, that one._

"_Right," he sighed, sitting up. He reached for his rucksack and the silver thermos he knew to be inside. "Chocolate?"_

* * *

If there was ambiguity, he was half to blame.

If he was going to wait for Rose to sort herself out, he'd have better luck waiting for the third-coming of the Dark Lord.

If he wanted her to answer questions, he would have to be the one to push.

If he was going to be the one to push, then he would have to come up with a plan.

* * *

_They had agreed to meet after checking their respective train cars. Scorpius had finished early because he'd drawn the long straw and had the easy task of checking up on the car occupied primarily by Hufflepuffs. There were definitely benefits to being a Malfoy and a Slytherin: all he needed was one menacing look for absolute intimidation. Rose had drawn the Gryffindor car, so there was no telling how long she'd be._

_But he didn't have to wait long. She slammed the door behind her, slightly out of breath._

"_Did you run the en tire way here?" he asked, amused._

"_I had Weasley cousins after me. You'd run too," she coughed. He handed her a freshly transfigured cup full of aguamenti-ed water. "Thanks."_

"_So you were under attack, then?"_

_She shrugged. "Fred and Louis are trying out Uncle George's newest inventions. What better target than a perfect who's also a relative?"_

"_You don't think you could take on two fourth years?"_

_Rose slanted him a look. "I do not underestimate jokes that come out of my Uncle George's shop, especially not ones he hasn't even determined safe for public consumption. I had to learn that the hard way."_

_He grinned. "I'll have to take your word for it. I don't have a lot of people pranking me."_

"_I could change that if you like," she offered._

_Scorpius shook his head. "Tempting, but I'll pass."_

_She flexed her fingers on the polished iron rail. "So…this conversation is pleasant and all, but I get the feeling that you want to discuss something more substantial."_

_Scorpius turned to look at her then, meeting her huge, dark eyes. If anyone had asked him two years ago what color they were, he'd ask them to point out which Weasley they were referring to exactly. If they had asked him one year ago, he would have said they looked black because he could barely see anything but her pupils through her narrow-eyed glare. Now could he say that they were the color of toasted almonds or something equally fanciful. They were…pretty eyes._

"_I think we should call an end to our game, Rose," he said carefully._

_She was confused. She looked hurt. "What?"_

_He felt a moment of hesitation, but pushed the feeling out of his head. A plan was a plan. "It's our last year after all, and we should be focusing on our studies, not childish games, don't you agree?"_

"_Oh," she sighed, gazing down at her hands. "I suppose."_

"_This is not to say we can't continue to be on good terms."_

"_Right."_

_He waited a beat. "Are you mad at me?"_

_Her head shot up. "Why would I be mad?"_

"_You don't seem like yourself. Did you want to continue?"_

"_Of course not. We'd always agreed that it would end when one of us wanted it to end, didn't we?" she asked softly, but her expression had shuttered._

"_Yes, we did."_

"_Good. Then we understand each other."_

_He almost smiled. How had she turned it around so that it seemed like she was the one ending it? "We do."_

"_Right. Then I should be getting back to my car. My cousins are waiting," she said turning around. Her hand was on the door handle, but she paused. "This is goodbye, then."_

_Had she always been this melodramatic?_

"_Not at all. We're bound to be in classes together, not to mention patrols."_

"_Oh, er, right. Well, see you when we get to Hogwarts."_

"_See you."_

_If he had been a better spawn of an evil family, he would have rubbed his hands together and cackled as soon as the door slid shut behind her. As it was, Scorpius contented himself with a self-satisfied grin._

* * *

Notes:

On triangulating Wiltshire and London and Windsor eats – Yes, I really am a huge geek and I had to Google!Maps the stupid distance and figure out a reasonable meeting point. Crookham or Winchfield would probably be better approximations, but I'd only experienced them on the road, so I couldn't say what's in them. Conversely, I've been to Windsor, and have eaten at the Cornucopia Bistro – they have amazing soup – so I could see the location in my head and taste the food in my memory, which makes me happy.

And Scorpius can tell when Rose is speaking in first-caps, which is why I type it so. :D


End file.
